The Perception of Weakness
by AnonymousBrit
Summary: Established House/Cuddy relationship so set around season 7, but no fixed time frame. When House starts to be ill and dismisses it as nothing, Cuddy goes along with it. But should Cuddy have trusted her instincts?


**To all of you who are awaiting an update to 'Blame' I can only apologise – I seem to have completely lost my mojo and feel that what I was writing was turning into a very generic story which is like so many others on this site. That isn't to say I don't enjoy reading those stories, in fact I've probably read them all, but it was getting a little tedious to write! If anyone has any ideas, feel free to let me know in a review as I don't have PM turned on :) I also have another idea for a one-shot that I'll hopefully churn out soon.**

**Anyway, here's a one-shot that I'd been thinking about for a while so I hope you enjoy it.**

[H]

When Cuddy and House had gone to bed that night there was nothing particularly out of the ordinary. House had worked late and had arrived at Cuddy's at about 11.30pm. As expected, all of the lights were off as Cuddy had gone to bed an hour previously, however she had left a plate of lasagne in the fridge for him which he quickly reheated in the microwave and ate hungrily, before leaving his plate and cutlery in the sink for her to wash up in the morning. He entered their bedroom with slow, heavy footsteps as the pain of the day took its toll, as it often did, and he shed his clothes in the middle of their bedroom floor before plodding through to their en suite bathroom to go to the toilet and brush his teeth. Cuddy had heard him enter and rolled over to her side of the bed to make room for him, and when he lay down, too exhausted for a wild night of love making, she rested her head on his shoulder and placed a hand on his chest.

'Are you ok?' She asked quietly, disturbed by his silence. She always awoke when he came home late and he was always keen to share how his breakthroughs came about, often through his own brilliance, however tonight he had said nothing.

'No,' was all he mumbled, his eyes still open as he lay staring at the ceiling.

'What happened?' She prompted, tracing her hand across his broad chest at an attempt to comfort him.

'I was too late. She had Manganese poisoning and I didn't see it. She had a husband and two young children and now, they just have to wait for her to die.' He said this in a monotonic voice, clearly affected by his perceived lack of competence, and he tried to roll over and push Cuddy away.

'House, you know this isn't your fault. She must have been experiencing some symptoms for years for her to have the fatal dose in her body; there are plenty of other doctors who should have caught this,' she said, propping herself up on an elbow to try and look at his face.

'And now I'm just another one of those doctors who missed it,' he affirmed. Cuddy sighed; there was no way she was getting through to him tonight. She lay back down on her side of the bed, ensuring she still had skin contact with him, and quietly told him:

'You aren't _just another doctor_ to me, House.' Knowing he had heard her, Cuddy took one final glance at her bedside clock before going to sleep – 00.47. Not expecting to hear another thing until her alarm at 05.30, she closed her eyes.

[H]

At 03.30, Cuddy was awoken by the sound of violet retching coming from their bathroom. She sat up, sensing the empty space next to her, and saw light coming through from underneath the door. Hurriedly throwing her legs over the side of the bed Cuddy ran to the door, dismayed to find it locked.

'House, I need you to open the door,' she commanded in the most even tone she could muster, concerned by the appalling sounds he was making. Never in all her years of working in hospitals could she recall hearing such strained, loud noises from being sick. When she got no response, she called again, knocking loudly. 'House! Open the door! I need to know you're ok, please unlock it.' Now slightly frantic, her cool front was dissipating as she still heard nothing but the sound of vomiting. When she still had no response, she resorted to plan B. Flicking on the main bedroom light she fumbled around and tried to find a coin she could use to twist the lock from the outside, all the while trying to shield her eyes from the bright light. Seeing the jeans he had left in the middle of the floor when he came in, she delved into the pockets and had never been so pleased when her fingers came into contact with cold metal. Running back over to the door she twisted the lock and threw open the door, only to be greeted with the over powering smell of vomit.

'House,' she gasped and knelt down next to his slumped form, right leg laid out straight to the side of him, both arms clinging to the toilet bowl while his head also rested on the cool porcelain. Seeing the sweat glistening on his forehead Cuddy felt for a fever, and was shocked by the heat she felt. He had seemed fine not three hours ago?

Her mind instantly went to the worst case scenario. 'House I need you to talk to me, have you taken too much Vicodin?'

'No,' he weakly replied, his eyes falling shut. She breathed a sigh of relief before continuing her questioning.

'Do we need to get you to the hospital? This isn't normal, I'm worried,' she confessed, squeezing his arm. At the mention of hospital, his eyes shot open once again.

'No, no hospital. I've only been sick, nothing else, I had lunch out with Wilson, it's probably food poisoning,' he said, lifting his head slightly from the bowl and instantly regretting it.

'Food poisoning can be serious House! Salmonella, e coli, they kill!'

'I'll be fine Cuddy, I'm not a baby and don't qualify as 'old' yet so I'm sure whatever this is my immune system will fight it.' He screwed his eyes up tightly as another wave of nausea overcame him and he tried to take deep breaths to keep it at bay, however this was in vain as once again he violently vomited, too weak to lift his head up from its position on the edge of the bowl.

Once he had finished Cuddy wiped his mouth clean with some toilet paper, and dropped it into the bowl before flushing. 'House I really don't like this, please let me call an ambulance.' She begged, starting to become afraid by his illness, but he maintained his position.

'I feel a bit better now, honestly, I don't think I'm going to be sick again,' he protested, and even lifted his head from the bowl to prove his point. He looked like death warmed up, but Cuddy wasn't going to force him in against his wishes. He was a grown man, a doctor too, and she liked to believe that if he were seriously ill he would know and want to make himself better.

As if reading her mind, he assured her 'Look, don't you think that if I thought this was serious I'd get it checked out? I don't just have myself to think about anymore but you and Rachel too, and I'm sure that in a couple of days I'll be right as rain.' He smiled weakly and Cuddy sighed, relenting.

'Ok. Do you need help up?' She asked tiredly, all the night's excitement draining her. House tried to drag himself into a more upright sitting position and tried to push himself up using the edge of the toilet, however this was unsuccessful. He didn't have the energy to use the upper body strength he was usually so reliant on, and he sighed as he realised that he was going to have to concede and ask for her help.

'It's ok,' Cuddy reassured, knowing that he hated to be seen as weak, 'you're ill. Everyone needs help when they're ill. Is this why you locked the door?'

He cast his eyes downward, mumbling 'That, and I didn't want to disturb you again,' before lifting his blue eyes to meet hers again. 'I'm sorry I woke you.'

'Ssh, it doesn't matter,' she cooed, placing a hand on his cheek. 'I'll always get up for you. I'd stay up all day and night if you asked me to,' she smiled, and kissed his clammy forehead. 'Now come on, let's get you up. I'm afraid you're going to wash your mouth out with mouthwash before coming back into my bed though, your breath is disgusting.' He smiled and decided he could do that one thing for her as together they managed to get him to his feet. He stood unsteadily without his cane and along with the overwhelming weakness caused by frequent vomiting he knew there was no way he was going to make it to the sink and back to bed. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one who knew it and Cuddy wordlessly wrapped her arm around his waist and draped his arm over her shoulders. Together, they eventually made it back to the safety of their bed.

Once lying down, House took some deep breaths, worrying Cuddy that he was going to start being sick again. 'You alright?' She asked, concerned.

'Yeah, I'm fine, just exhausted,' he lazily smiled at her as she lowered the duvet to stop him from overheating. 'No, don't do that, it's freezing,' he protested, but she was adamant.

'That's the fever House, you'll do more damage by covering yourself up. You can snuggle up next to me to keep warm, ok?'

'Ok,' he agreed, thinking there were worse options. She turned off her bedside lamp and took another look at her clock – 04.18. One hour and she would have to be getting up again. Well there was one thing which was for sure and that was that there was no way in hell House was going into work in the morning. As much as he would always try to feign illness to avoid work, when faced with actual illness she was convinced he would do everything in his power to go in and try to prove his strength. Taking one last look at the clock she changed her alarm from 05.30 to 07.00. Her morning yoga could definitely be missed tomorrow, and it would give them both a little more undisturbed sleep. God knows they both needed it.

[H]

At 06.54 Cuddy was awoken by the sound of Rachel demanding her attention. She grumbled, feeling she really could have benefited from those extra 6 minutes; however she was thankful that House still appeared to be fast asleep and she could now turn off the alarm that would be sure to wake him. She carefully got out of bed and shut their bedroom door behind her to try and minimise any noise that may disturb him, then proceeded to get Rachel up.

'Hey, baby,' she whispered, and lifted her out of the crib she was near to growing out of, 'we need to be extra quiet this morning, ok? House isn't feeling too good.'

'House sick?' Rachel asked, eyes wide.

'Yes Honey, but don't worry, he'll be alright, we just have to let him sleep.'

'Ok,' she smiled, appeased. 'Honey Loops?' Cuddy now smiled too. When House moved into their home, he also moved in his bad eating habits and unfortunately this meant that Rachel had picked up on what he ate, and following her role model, had taken quite a fancy to his high sugar, high salt cereal.

'Ok, just this morning though, alright? They're very bad for your teeth,' she said as she moved through the hallway and into the kitchen.

'But House gets to eat them all the time?'

'I know he does but he's an adult, Sweetie, and he's allowed to make his own stupid decisions.'

'House isn't stupid? He always says he's the cleverest person in the world?' Cuddy sighed, really not having the energy for this sort of conversation this morning.

'Yes, I know, I'm saying his decision to eat unhealthily is stupid, not that he is stupid.' Rachel gave her a confused look, not following her mother's reasoning, however when Cuddy put the bowl down in front of her it seemed their discussion was well and truly over as she hungrily dug in. Cuddy made herself a large coffee and kept a look out of the window to see when Marina arrived so that she could greet her before she rang the doorbell and disturbed House, determined to let him sleep for as long as possible to allow his immune system to try and fend whatever this illness was off. When she saw her trusted nanny pull up onto her driveway she opened the door, glad that she could oversee Rachel finishing her breakfast so that Cuddy herself could go and check on House. After filling Marina in and asking whether it would be possible for Rachel to go back to her house for the day, Cuddy made her way back towards the bedroom so that she could get dressed for work and assess the situation.

She quietly entered their bedroom and chose an outfit for the day, then entered their en suite. The smell of vomit was still lingering in the air as she brushed her teeth and did her makeup, a stark reminder of just how violently ill House had been the night before. When she was ready, she sat down on the edge of House's side of their bed and put a hand to his forehead. He was still fiercely hot, so Cuddy reluctantly tried to arouse him from his sleep.

'House,' she said loudly, and shook his shoulder, 'House you need to wake up'. He let out a low groan as he entered the land of the living, and before he had even opened his eyes all the way reached down to grab his right leg. Concerned, Cuddy spoke again. 'House, can you hear me?'

'My leg,' he gasped, 'everything hurts.' Reaching for his bottle of ibuprofen Cuddy shook 2 pills onto her hand and tried to lift his head from the pillow so he could swallow them. After several attempts they finally went down, House still in some distress. He lay back down heavily on the pillow as Cuddy rubbed his leg with one hand and stroked his clammy forehead with the other.

'House this isn't right, I really think we need to get you to the hospital,' she pleaded, but he was still adamant.

'No! Please, it's just the aches of having the 'flu and it's hit my leg badly, I'll be fine in a couple of days.'

'Last night you said you thought it was food poisoning?' She questioned.

'Yeah, but that was before the myalgia,' he reasoned, and he opened his eyes all the way as if to prove his point that he'd be ok. Cuddy was relenting, still strongly opposed to making a decision against his wishes.

She sighed and pushed back the hair that was sticking to his forehead. 'Ok. But I'm gonna make you drink 1L of water before I go, you're getting really dehydrated with this fever and all the vomiting, and I'm coming home at lunchtime. If you're worse, you're going in.'

'Ok,' he agreed, and watched her leave the room. When she was gone, he let his eyelids droop and he let out a moan. He was in agony, not only from the muscle pain but he had severe abdominal pain too, not that he was going to let her know that. Lifting his head an inch from the pillow made it spin, and he was continually fighting the urge to vomit, however he was still convinced that this was something relatively minor which would pass in a few days.

When he heard her re-enter he opened his eyes again, and with her help struggled to maintain a half-sitting position so he could drink. He couldn't deny that the cool liquid was refreshing and helped to remove the aftertaste of vomit he still had, but being semi-upright made him so dizzy that once again he needed to be sick. Luckily, Cuddy was prepared and swiftly held the plastic bin from the bathroom under his chin. She wiped his mouth clean, then helped him lay back down again.

'Thank you,' he mumbled, exhausted from the activity and feeling desperately unwell.

'You're welcome,' she replied, and fluffed the pillows under his head. 'I need to go to work, I have a meeting at 10.00 I can't get out of, but I'm going to clean this bucket out and leave it by the bed, ok? Your ibuprofen and phone are on the bedside table and I'll leave a glass of water, do you need help to go to the bathroom before I go?'

'No, I don't need it,' he told her.

'Alright, well I'll leave a bottle here for you to pee in. I don't want you hurting yourself trying to get to the bathroom, please use it,' she said and stood up to wash out the latest round of sick. She returned with the bin and placed a glass of water on the bedside table, then bent down and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead. 'I'll see you in a few hours, ok?'

'Ok. Thank you.'

'You're welcome.'

She left the bedroom and gathered up her meeting preparations, put them in her briefcase, and left to go to work. Before she had even shut the front door, House was sound asleep.

[H]

Wilson was standing at the reception desk looking through his messages when Cuddy blustered through the main doors at 09.07, another coffee in hand. He looked at his watch, astounded.

'Wow, Cuddy. This is definitely a first!'

'Don't even get me started,' she replied as she picked up a stack of messages and letters.

'Are you ok?' He now asked, perturbed by the large bags and dark marks under her eyes and her hair which didn't quite look in place which he could see as she came closer. She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears.

'I'm fine,' she said, desperately trying to fight her emotions and not lifting her eyes from her post, 'it's just, it's House, he's really not well and refusing to come into the hospital, and I'm not going to call an ambulance all the while he's saying 'no' because I can't take another medical decision out of his hands, and we hardly got any sleep and...Look I'm fine, I'm just tired and I have an important meeting and I really need to go and prep for it, so I'll see you later.'

'Woah Cuddy, stop,' he said and put both of his hands on her shoulders. 'Look at me,' he commanded, and she raised her eyes. 'What are his symptoms?'

'Um... Vomiting, fever, myalgia, he gets dizzy when he sits up,' she rubbed her forehead as she wracked her brain to see if there were any less obvious symptoms she could remember before Wilson interrupted.

'Ok, so those first three symptoms can be attributed to 'flu and the dizziness is likely to just be dehydration,' he reasoned, trying to calm Cuddy down. She looked at him.

'That's what he said too, I just can't help but feel this is something worse. He was so violently ill, Wilson, it wasn't normal 'flu sickness.'

Wilson took in her drawn features. She was exhausted and wracked by worry, and he was convinced that her exhaustion was leading her to over react. 'He is one of the best doctors in the country, I'm sure he would know if he were ill.'

'And you and I both know damn well that he is the worst patient in the country. Thanks for trying Wilson, I really have to go and get ready for this meeting though. Can you let his team know he won't be coming in? I just want to get this over and done with and then I can get back to him.'

'Ok, I'll let them know. Let me know if you need anything, and I mean it, alright?'

She smiled. Wilson really was a good friend to them, and she knew it. 'I will. And thank you.'

'You're welcome,' he smiled, and watched as she made her way to her office. He briefly debated calling House just to check in, but she had said they were up half the night and he was probably sleeping, so Wilson decided to leave it for now. Like he said, he was probably fine.

[H]

Cuddy stumbled her way through her meeting, desperately distracted, however without making any serious errors. Several members of the board paused to ask her if she were ok, to which she told them that her daughter were ill. While it was common knowledge that she and House were a couple it was still a bit of a faux pas where the board were concerned, and it was best to avoid the topic wherever possible. As soon as the meeting was over she politely told the chairman of the board that she had to leave immediately, her 'daughter' was quite unwell. They understood, and she took her leave.

Cuddy really had planned to make it until lunch before she went home, however there was a niggling feeling at the back of her mind which told her that she needed to go and check on her patient as soon as she could. She opened the front door, and called through the house for him, part of her expecting both a miraculous recovery and a response. What greeted her instead when she reached their bedroom was altogether quite frightening.

She opened their bedroom door and was greeted once again by the overwhelming smell of House's vomit and the low, constant sound of pitiful moaning.

'House?' She gasped and ran to his bedside. The bottom sheet and his pillow were covered in vomit, and his body was contorted into the foetal position so he could attempt to reach his leg with minimal effort. He was taking small, shallow breaths and his fever was through the roof.

'House, can you hear me?' She asked, panic-stricken. The doctor inside of her was rapidly being displaced by the terrified loved one, while he groaned again in agony, his eyes flying open and darting around the room. 'House!'

'Cuddy?' He whispered, not making eye contact.

'Yes, House, it's me. I'm going to call an ambulance now, ok?' She told him rather than asked, he too incoherent to make a reasoned decision. She grabbed his phone off the bedside table and dialled.

'Don't leave me, Cuddy, don't leave me!' He suddenly shouted, frantic.

'I won't, I'm here, ok?' She soothed as the tears ran down her face. With her free hand she clasped his and brought his knuckles to her lips in attempt to calm him as the operator answered her call.

'Hello, I need an ambulance please.'

_'Ok ma'am, what is the problem?'_

'My partner, he's ill. Um, he's been vomiting, he has a really high fever, myalgia, he's so weak he can't move and now he's incoherent, he's been like it a few hours now, we need someone quick. I'm Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine at Princeton-Plainsboro, we need to go there.'

_'Ok Doctor Cuddy, what's your address?'_

'145 Cedar Drive, Princeton, New Jersey,' she told the lady, trying to keep her voice as even as possible to remain coherent herself.

'_Alright, we've dispatched an ambulance which should be there shortly. Now Doctor Cuddy, I need you remain calm, alright?'_

'I'm trying,' she whispered as she continued to kiss his knuckles, but noticed that he was now losing consciousness rather than rambling. 'House?' She panicked, 'House open your eyes!' She was now shouting, and the poor operator was doing her best to keep control of the situation.

_'Doctor Cuddy, is he responding to painful stimuli?_ _Doctor Cuddy?'_

'Umm,' she mumbled before doing the only thing she could think of to try and reawaken him. She took her hand from his and slammed a fist into his right thigh, desperately hoping this would elicit a response. If it didn't they were in real trouble. Thankfully, he let out a strained scream and opened his eyes once more.

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,' she told him and proceeded to stroke his forehead again. 'He's awake,' she informed the operator.

_'Good, now keep talking to him; don't let him drift off again._' Just as she finished speaking these words Cuddy heard the sound of sirens coming down her street.

'They're here, the paramedics are here,' she gratefully told the operator and jumped up to look out the window.

_'Ok, I'll let you go now. You've done all you can, Doctor Cuddy. I wish you all the best.'_

'Thank you,' she told the woman and hung up as she ran to her front door. 'He's through here, please hurry!'

'Doctor Cuddy?' One of the paramedics exclaimed, surprised when his boss opened the front door.

'Please, we need to be quick!' She said, totally ignoring him. The two men shared a look which between them, each signalling to the other that they were aware that keeping the family calm would be crucial. They followed her to the bedroom where now, unsurprisingly, they found Doctor House.

'Doctor Cuddy we're going to need you to stand back so we can assess him,' the older man said as he knelt by House's bedside and took his temperature while the other took his blood pressure.

'Temp is through the roof,' one said, while the other said:

'BP is 75/50.'

'75/50! I thought he was just dizzy due to dehydration, oh God, what have I missed?' Cuddy was shouting, absolutely frantic.

Ignoring her, the paramedics continued. 'We need to cool him down and get fluids in him now, run a large gauge IV and hang a litre of saline, we'll put ice packs on him once we're on the rig.' Carefully, the paramedics straightened him out of the foetal position and rolled him onto his back so they could lift him onto a stretcher.

'Be careful of his right leg, he has a pre-existing injury,' Cuddy warned as she watched them lift him.

'We're aware ma'am, we're being as careful as we can.'

The disturbance in the room once again woke House from his disturbed slumber, but he didn't recognise the voices he heard around him. 'Cuddy?' He suddenly shouted, causing her to jump. 'Where are they taking me? Don't let them take me away, I swear I'm not back on Vicodin, I promise!'

'Ssh, I know, House, I know,' she sobbed, and took a step towards him on the stretcher. We're taking you to hospital, ok?'

'Don't let them take my leg,' he pleaded, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. Cuddy looked desperately at the paramedics as if searching for answers. He was so confused it was heartbreaking.

'I won't, I promise. You hear me? I promise.'

'He's probably delusional from this fever, we need to get him in now. Why did it take so long to call an ambulance?' One of them asked as they walked through the house. Cuddy only wished she had a response which would let her sleep at night.

[H]

For Cuddy the ambulance ride seemed to take forever. The paramedics placed ice packs under his arm pits, on his groin and at the back of his neck while she held a cool cloth to his forehead. She wiped away the sick which was at the side of his mouth and held his hand, reassuring him during his intermittent brushes with consciousness that she was there, and that everything was going to be ok, that they weren't going to take his leg and that she wouldn't leave him. House remained relatively stable for the duration of the journey and Cuddy took a moment to frantically call Wilson. She was glad that she did, for when they arrived his team were there to greet them and he was immediately rushed through to an exam room away from prying eyes.

As the paramedics relayed the information they had Cuddy walked through behind them in shock. She was in her own small hell until she was aware of someone shouting at her.

'Cuddy!' Foreman said for the third time, and she looked at him, shocked. 'I said, when did the symptoms start?'

'He was sick, I mean really, really violently at 03.30 this morning and he had a fever. He thought it was just food poisoning, I, I, should have called an ambulance right away, I knew something wasn't right but he told me not to - '

'Cuddy stop,' Wilson said and sat her down on a stool. 'This isn't your fault,' he soothed, resting his hands on her shoulders.

'Yes it is! I'm a doctor, I should have seen that something was wrong, it shouldn't have got this far!'

'Cuddy!' Foreman shouted again, 'when did he last urinate?'

'Um... Oh God, not since last night at about 11.30. I left a bottle for him to pee in this morning and he didn't use it, and there's no way he was strong enough to make it to the bathroom and back on his own. I gave him a litre of water this morning too to stop him getting dehydrated too, he should have been peeing buckets! His kidneys are shutting down?'

Foreman sighed. It did look as though renal failure was on the cards, something he did not wish to confirm to his boss, but in reality if she were acting as his boss he would not need to confirm it – it was obvious. 'It does look that way, yes.'

'Oh God,' Cuddy whimpered, and she dropped her head into her hands in defeat.

'Don't worry yet Cuddy, we're still exploring every option. His BP is stable now with the fluids we're giving him and his heart and breathing rates are steady. We still have time to find out what this is, don't give up yet,' Foreman said as reassuring as he could, calming down the family not being his strong suit.

'Foreman!' Chase said, causing Cuddy to lift her head and Foreman and Wilson to look in his direction. He was examining House's left hand intently. 'Looks like we have blanching at the finger tips on the left hand, but on the right it's worked its way down and has occurred on most of the hand.'

Cuddy stood from her stool and made her way over to the bed, taking his right hand in hers. 'This wasn't like this an hour ago. I was holding his hand and I didn't notice, I would have noticed,' she mumbled, as if she were talking to herself. Foreman and Chase heard her, but made no acknowledgement. Their heads were whirring with possibilities.

'So,' Wilson said, 'we have low BP, fever, vomiting, renal failure, confusion, myalgia, and now blanching.' His eyebrows were knitted together as he desperately tried to wrack his brains and come up with an explanation, but to no avail. His thoughts were all over the place. Chase however, had a brainwave.

'I think we need to do a lumbar puncture, see what we find. If I'm right it should be negative, but we need to do it to rule anything else out.'

Foreman looked towards his colleague, the pieces fitting together. 'Then are you suggesting we rule out Rickettsia, leptospirosis and measles?'

'I sure am,' he nodded.

'What, what are you thinking?' Wilson asked, desperate to know what thoughts they had when he had none of his own. Cuddy however seemed totally unaware of what the men were discussing as she repeatedly stroked House's forehead with one hand and held his with her other, her eyes glazed over.

'All the signs are pointing towards Toxic Shock Syndrome,' explained Chase, 'but before we can confirm it we have to rule a few other things out.'

'TSS? That's rare enough amongst women who use tampons, let alone a man?' Wilson implored.

'Listen to yourself!' Foreman said, now exasperated. 'You know as well as we do that it's caused by bacteria, and the guy works in a hospital. He works with infectious disease!'

'But his last case was Manganese poisoning, nothing to do with bacteria?'

'2 days ago he was sneaking around the labs trying to find Dr Knight's research on a more effective vaccine against leprosy, he could have come into contact with something there.'

'Look, we need to stop discussing this and get on with it. TSS can move fast and at the minute it's our best guess. Wilson, are you his proxy or is Cuddy?' Chase asked, trying to regain control of the situation.

'Cuddy is,' he replied, apparently satisfied with their explanation.

'Ok, we need her consent for the LP, do you want to fill her in or shall we?'

'No, I will. She looks like she's about to collapse,' Wilson said, as Chase and Foreman nodded their heads and left to give them a couple of minutes. 'Cuddy?' He asked softly, and dragged the chair over for her to sit in. He guided her down into it, she still not making any acknowledgements other than her awareness for House.

'Cuddy, I need you to look at me. Cuddy!' He finally shouted, causing her to jump in her seat and face him. 'I'm sorry for shouting, but I need you to listen. Chase and Foreman are thinking TSS and need to do an LP but we need your consent.' He handed the form out to her, but she didn't take it. Wilson sighed. 'Cuddy, I know you're scared, and I know you feel guilty, but up until this point absolutely nothing has been your fault. If you don't sign this form, you'll have a hell of a lot more to feel guilty about.'

Wilson's bluntness scared her. She knew he was scared too, but unlike her, he now had no power over the situation. 'An LP?' She asked, the first words she'd spoken in nearly an hour.

'Yes,' Wilson sighed with relief, he was actually getting somewhere. She looked down at the consent form, then took the pen from Wilson and wordlessly signed it. 'Thank you,' he breathed, then took the form to the door and handed it to Chase. 'Give us another couple of minutes?' He asked, still concerned for Cuddy.

'I can give you a couple but we have to move fast,' Chase reminded him. He nodded, then moved back to Cuddy. 'Have you called Marina and asked her to keep Rachel overnight?' Wilson asked.

'No, Rachel! Oh God Wilson, I forgot! What kind of mother am I? I can't do anything, I can't keep the man I love safe, I can't look after my daughter, what next?' She cried, jumping from her chair and foraging for her phone.

'Cuddy, ssh, it's ok. No one blames you, you've had a scary amount going on. It's not even 16.00 yet, you're not due to collect her for another couple of hours. Just give Marina a call and I'm sure she won't mind having Rach a bit longer, don't panic.' Cuddy took a deep breath and held tightly onto her phone.

'Ok. If I go out and call her will you stay here? I don't want him to be on his own.'

'Of course I will. We really need to get the LP done, are we alright to start it now?' Cuddy nodded, and Wilson beckoned House's fellows in. 'It may be better if you aren't here for this anyway, it isn't a very nice procedure to watch on a loved one.' Cuddy nodded again, and left to make her call.

'Ok. Let's get this started,' Chase announced, and they prepped for the procedure.

[H]

Toxic Shock Syndrome. The condition was confirmed later that evening after ruling out everything else, and after the discovery of an abscess found in House's abdomen during the LP. Now in the ICU after the abscess had been drained, House lay there surrounded by machines which were working to reverse the damage the bacteria had done. He was on broad spectrum antibiotics to try and cure the infection, anti-emetics to cease the vomiting, fluids for his blood pressure and the dehydration, pain relief for the myalgia, incision where the abscess was drained and the pain in his leg which she believed he would still be feeling, and a dialysis machine was whirring next to the bed to support his kidneys, but all in all, it looked as though the disease had been caught just in time.

Cuddy hadn't moved from her position at his bedside since he'd been moved in there, and Wilson had stayed until midnight when he left to give her some time on her own with him. Chase and Foreman were alternately coming in and checking on him every hour and there was always a nurse nearby, but Cuddy couldn't help but now feel alone. Throughout her relationship with House he would always be there, sometimes at the most inappropriate of moments, making wise-crack comments or making reference to her dress sense, or if he were working late at night he would always call to say goodnight, something most people would be surprised at, but he would never stay silent. Even after a row he would find some way to irritate her, and what would she give now for that to happen. But instead, he lay incapacitated in a hospital bed, relying on machines.

Desperate to sleep but not willing to leave, Cuddy put down the side of the hospital bed where she was standing and she sat on the edge of the bed. Slowly, she lay back until her head was resting on the corner of his pillow and she swung her legs up too, resting her hand on his chest just like she had done not 24 hours ago at home. After not long, the events of the last 2 nights and the previous day caught up with her, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

[H]

When House awoke, he was aware of the sounds of machines – machines which sounded decidedly like they belong in a hospital. The next thing he was aware of was a heavy weight on his chest, but on further inspection he found he knew who was responsible for that. Looking around the room he could tell he was in the ICU but for the life of him he couldn't remember how he had ended up here. Had he been in a motorbike accident? Had he pissed off another patient and gotten himself beaten up? Both plausible, but somehow neither seemed right in his head. He desperately wanted to wake up Cuddy and ask her, but he only had to look at her to see she looked exhausted, and he didn't want to disturb her.

Several minutes later he heard the door of the ICU open, and in walked Chase, who immediately on noticing his boss's eyes were open smiled, and walked to his bedside.

'You had us all worried for a few hours,' he said, as he listened to House's chest with his stethoscope. Hearing voices, Cuddy opened her eyes and saw Chase above her.

'Chase? Is everything ok?' She asked groggily, still not nearly well rested enough.

'See for yourself,' he replied, and gestured towards House. Sitting up slightly she turned to look at him, and on seeing his blue eyes she felt the tears well up in hers.

'Hey,' he smiled with a croak, his throat sore from vomiting.

'Hey,' she replied, as a single tear made its way down her cheek. 'How do you feel?'

'Sore. What happened?' He asked neither one of them in particular.

'You had Toxic Shock Syndrome. It's most likely that you got it snooping around Dr Knight's lab a few days ago but being the stubborn bastard that you are you refused to let Cuddy get you checked out when you first started showing symptoms. You had us all worried,'

'Terrified more like,' Cuddy added to Chase's version of events. 'I'm sorry, I should have seen how ill you were and called an ambulance sooner but you kept saying no, and I didn't want to do something against your wishes again. I nearly killed you.'

'No! No you didn't Cuddy, don't be stupid. I remember catching my side on a piece of rough metal in the lab, was that the site of infection?' He asked. Chase nodded.

'See, Cuddy? This was not your fault. I shouldn't have been in the lab and I should have known myself that there was something wrong, not you.'

'I should have trusted my instincts,' she said, now crying.

'I'm going to leave you two,' Chase said, seeing this as the time for him to make his exit. House nodded gratefully.

'Ssh, it wasn't your fault,' he said, wiping away her tears. 'I know you were trying to think of what was best for me and for that, I am very grateful. Anyway, if I hadn't got so bad I wouldn't need to spend so long in here. More clinic duty is being missed.' He said, a feeble attempt at a joke.

Cuddy sighed, and wiped away the rest of her tears. 'I'm just so glad you're going to be ok,' she sighed, and laid her head back down on his shoulder.

'You aren't getting away from me just yet,' he smiled, and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

**Hope you liked it. I think I'm better at writing one-shots, my attention gets diverted too easily from multi-chap fics! And if I get bored that doesn't bode well for the rest of the readers. I'll hopefully get another one out soonish.**


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